Rhapsody in Kaiju Blue
by liptonrm
Summary: Moments from the apocalypse. Written for Jaegercon 2013 bingo-one fill per chapter.
1. Jaeger Legends

Jaeger Legends

* * *

They whispered the stories around the shatterdome, tales of hauntings, of missing tools and missing techs, people driven away by what they saw deep in the beating of a jaeger's heart. Everyone knew that jaegers twitched while their pilots slept, breathed and lived through the depths of the night. But some connections went deeper than dreams, than nightmares, than the drift itself.

The stories were passed around in the hallways and cafeterias, behind closed doors and cupped hands. They told of Rio Oro, the hefty Chilean Mark II that had continued fighting after his pilots died, killed his third kaiju and sunk below the waves. How in Hong Kong, at the end of days, the techs learned the hard way that you didn't touch Cherno Alpha without a Kaidonovsky nearby, that there were worse things than shocked fingers and burned faces, that repairs unaccompanied by the right music might as well not have happened at all.

They said that Coyote Tango never moved again after Tokyo, her heart empty with her pilots incapacitated and gone. They said that Striker Eureka triggered the bomb himself, milliseconds before Chuck Hansen flipped the switch, eager to finish the job.

And then there was Gipsy Danger who carried her pilot home when he couldn't go another step, who died and then rose again, stronger and sleeker and reformed, who never would have fought again without Mako Mori, never walked without Raleigh Beckett. That Gipsy Danger stood beyond the Breach, sentinel against the kaiju and their masters. She waited there to one day rise again.


	2. The Kwoon

_Raleigh/Mako_

They found each other in the Kwoon. It was dark and late and their war was over. The base was nearly empty and they floated around it like ghosts, uncertain of the brave new world whose price had been the people they loved.

They didn't speak. They didn't have to. Everything they could have to say had already been said. Even days later they were still lost in the Drift.

They blinked and Raleigh was pressed back against the wall, his hands wrapped around Mako's hips. She surged up and pinned him, hands on shoulders, lips on lips, a kiss that was a battle that she would win.

She always won, even when winning meant losing everything else.

She didn't hold back because she knew that he understood what it was like to win the battle and lose your entire world. He could take it, take everything she was, everything she had to give, every blow that she could strike. He wouldn't break and he wouldn't let her fall.

They blinked again and they were naked, clothes a dark heap in the dim, empty room. Raleigh laid sprawled across the padding, chest heaving, coated in sweat. He pulled Mako down on top of him, hands gentle, both remembering that it wasn't a war, it was a dance, it was them, Mako and Raleigh, and their war had never been with each other.

She reached down and grasped his cock where it lay leaking between them. Her grip was soft but firm, the perfect pressure because she knew him, all of him. He moaned and arched, writhing as he came undone.

She shifted and rose, using her grip to guide herself down around him. She sunk and he whined, losing himself in her, in the two of them together. Their connection snapped into place and they were deep inside of each other, feeling what the other felt, knowing what the other knew. Raleigh felt full to bursting, an intrusion that wasn't an invasion but shivery pleasure and joy; Mako knew the need to take, to give, to drive forward again and again until the ledge came and she could fly.

They rose and fell together, one body, one mind, connected even in their dreams.

It was Raleigh's voice that bounced off of the walls in pleas and curses, his shout that echoed around them as they came down, but the same joy and desperation were written across Mako's face, sculpted into the lines of her body. They had each other and in that brief glowing moment they didn't need anyone else.

They laid, wrapped around each other, their beating hearts a lifeline and lullaby. They stayed there where there was no future or past or present, nothing to celebrate or mourn, only Raleigh and Mako and what they had done together.

It hadn't been farewell. Rangers never said goodbye.


End file.
